Stop Making Yourself Miserable

About Stop Making Yourself Miserable

Weekly short learnings, perspectives, thoughts, and ideas to consider and reflect upon. These are not meant to be teachings, but innovative ideas that you might want to consider to see where they lead. So, absorb the information, keep your eyes, mind, and heart open, and watch what happens.

Publisher

David Richman

Category

education · religion & spirituality

Language

en

Explicit

No

First episode

9 Jul 2021

Latest episode

9 Dec 2025

Latest episodes

132 episodes in the feed.

1. 

   9 Dec 2025

   EP 128 - The Friend at the End - Part VI

   As we ended the last episode, the doctor had told me to eat, and oh man, did I start eating. Looking back on it, I call it 'Healing in the Beehive," because they put me on a standard American diet loaded with carbohydrates and sugar. And I loved every bit of it. Cheeseburgers, tuna melt sandwiches, cookies, cake, pie a la mode. You name it. It was like going down a nostalgic memory lane of the favorite foods of my childhood. I stayed in the hospital for a total of ten days. They explained to me that I had suffered a massive stroke, but for some reason, call it grace, luck or both, the huge blood clot that had caused it found its resting place in my lower right cerebellum. Although that part of the brain is responsible for movement and balance, and the clot had destroyed a large portion of it, it landed in a place that did me no lasting harm, except for a very minor visual impairment. It wiped out a small portion of my left peripheral vision, which just happens to have been where I started seeing that light in the beginning that started the whole thing. During my stay in the hospital, it seemed like everyone who was taking care of me reminded me again and again of how lucky I had been. It was kind of funny because I really didn't have that much of a direct connection to my actual situation. I mean in my experience, I did have a day or two of being pretty out of it, but that's about it, I was pretty out of it. And then the next thing I knew, I felt fine. Of course, Sally knew what had really happened because she had lived through it. But in essence, I kind of slept through it.  And if I hadn't been told how sick I'd been and how close to death I had actually come, I would never have known it. Anyway, during the hospital stay, it seemed like I was constantly presented with reminders of my situation . One night, for example, they brought me a piece of cherry pie ala mode, which was always one of my most favorite desserts,  and I always get it with vanilla ice cream. Early on, that combination of cherry and vanilla had become a central part of my happy reward center. When I got to dessert and uncovered the plate, I saw that it had chocolate ice cream on the pie rather than vanilla. It was a bummer, but hey, I could handle it. "Oh," I said, somewhat disappointed as I looked at the plate. A doctor was in the room, just finishing up his quick exam of me. "What's wrong?" he asked. "Oh nothing," I replied. "It's just that they brought me the wrong ice cream. I like vanilla on my cherry pie and they brought me chocolate. It's no big deal." "Do you know where you are?" the doctor asked me, quizzically. "Sure," I replied, "I'm in the hospital." "You're in the Thomas Jefferson University Hospital of Neuroscience. You've had a massive stroke and you're in the intensive care unit," he corrected me. "And you know what? Most people get carried out of here or they get wheeled out. And it looks like you're going to just stand up and walk away from all this." He wasn't confrontational at all. He was very nice, but he was clearly making his point. "If I were you," he added, "I wouldn't be thinking too much about chocolate and vanilla anymore." He smiled at me and left the room. I got the message and took it in. It never hurts to be reminded of how fortunate you really are. Finally, my blood levels got to the right point and they decided to let me go. At the end, when I was ready to leave, I was sitting in my room and the head nurse came in to do some final paper work and say good-bye. Her name was Anna. She was in her late-forties and had come over from Russia about 20 years earlier. She saw me several times every day and we had become quite close. "You know, David, we have a folder here that we call the Hand of God Folder and that's where your file's going," she said as she was filling out a form. "It's for cases where a horrible tragedy could have happened, but for some reason it didn't. And we can't explain it. We don't know how these remarkable things happen. If we did we would certainly try to do it ourselves. But we can't. So –we have the Hand of God Folder…" She kept writing and then she looked up at me. "OK, we're done," she concluded. "Now, don't take this the wrong way. You're a very nice person and I'm glad we got to know each other. But I hope I never see you again." She paused for a moment and looked me in the eye. I felt intuitively that she was about to say something deeply meaningful or me, and as soon as she began talking, I knew I was right. "Look, you were here for ten days. I've been here for twelve years, and believe me, I've seen everything. And you really have no idea what happened here and, let alone what you've been spared from. "Let's just put it this way," she continued, "For the rest of your life, if you woke up every morning and before you did anything, you got down on your knees and thanked God for the miracle that happened here, you'd still be understating it. "And even from just a medical perspective, this really was a miracle." She went silent for a moment or two. "And believe me, you'll never be able to come up with the amount of gratitude in your heart that would be appropriate for the gift that you've been given. Never. Ever." Moving me to silence, her words went straight to my heart. "Well, I'm sure you're right." I thought to myself, deeply moved. And then something hit me, "Well, at least I can try." Then another thought hit me, "Not a bad way to spend the rest of your life." "Thank you, dear," I finally said to her. "Thanks for everything." She hugged me, gave me a kiss on the cheek and had me sit in the wheelchair that was mandatory for check outs. She wheeled me out into the hall, where Sally was waiting for me. They talked warmly for a few minutes, then my ever-faithful wife took the chair from her, and with rock-steady hands, wheeled me out to the car and drove me back home. Within a few months, I made a complete recovery from the stroke and was able to return to my normal life once again. It kind of felt like nothing had happened and physically, nothing really had. All my faculties were intact and my life went back to business as usual. But that was all on the outside. Within myself, I was never really the same again. How could I be? When you've been unexpectantly taken to the Exit Door like that and then you're suddenly given another chance, it can be subtle, but everything on the inside changes. Now, for the most part, we all have our normal routines, our responsibilities, and of course, our hopes and fears. But as the years go on, most of our focus goes to solving our problems, big or small.  It becomes a never-ending process and we can end up taking the best parts of our lives for granted while ignoring the incredible beauty that's within us and around us. For me, that had all come to a sudden, screeching halt and I had been removed from my own routine for quite some time.  Now, as I returned to it, even though externally it was basically the same, with the understanding that I had been given a second chance, I was seeing it with eyes that were drenched with gratitude. But something else was running through me as well. A feeling kept welling up within, like a powerful current at the bottom of the ocean that you can't see from the surface, but you can certainly feel it if you're standing in it. In this way, deep in the core of my being, I kept feeling a strong determination to make the most out of whatever time I had left. In that regard, as the stroke had begun and I was instructed to prepare to die, at one point I was asked if I had learned anything. And that simple question led me to realize how much I actually had learned about the higher understandings in life. At that point, I felt content with how I had lived and how much I had learned and I quickly came to the conclusion that if my time on Earth was really coming to an end at that point, I felt ready for it. Now, looking back on these extremely powerful events, I could see that my inner growth, the evolution of my awareness, was clearly the most important part of my life. And that made perfect sense because everything on the outside, my relationships with my family and friends, my life in the world, in essence who I thought I was and what I was doing, was just a basic reflection of my inner being, which was who I really was, within myself. I understood that I really could have easily died at that point, but I didn't. Instead, I had been given more time and I was starting to grasp what a tremendous opportunity that was. Whether I had a few more months, a few more years or a few more decades, it was becoming clear that my focus was to keep on growing toward the highest. So, I returned to my inner practices with a renewed sense of determination. But I was in for an unexpected and rather pleasant surprise. It had all gotten much easier. Actually, looking back on it, it made perfect sense. A lot of the allure of the outer life had fallen away. A close brush with death has a way of doing that to you. It automatically reorganizes your priorities. Trivial things become really trivial. And what matters most, becomes what really matters the most. Now, my practices still required making effort, but things were very different. It was like what happens when winter starts turning into spring. You have the same back yard, but what a difference. The frost is melting and the frozen stream starts running again. Soon buds appear and the scene becomes filled with beautiful flowers and birds, not to mention the sweet fragrances that continually fill the air. But as beautiful as it is, it still requires conscious effort to tend the garden. But this is a different kind of effort – it's the effort of finding, rather than the effort of searching. Although the outer may seem to remain the same, like a rocket that finally escapes the earth's atmosphere, with the resistance gone, the inner transformation keeps picking up speed. So, to go from a space age analogy to an ancient one – as the Zen saying put it a couple of thousand years ago – Before Enlightenment: Chopping Wood and Carrying Water. After Enlightenment: Chopping Wood and Carrying Water. And to close with a much newer old statement from a song by David Byrne Same as it ever was. Same as it ever was. Well, let's let these observations put a timeless end to this episode. And as always, keep your eyes mind and heart open, and let's get together in the next one.

2. 

   2 Dec 2025

   EP 127 - The Friend at the End - Part V

   Now I was back on my own, just me, myself, and I.  But my attention stayed with my breath as it continued to flow in and out of me. "As long as I'm breathing, I'll know that I'm still alive," I thought. Now, I had been meditating for many, many years, and part of that practice is to focus on your breath, but this was completely different.  Before, the breath was a calming presence.  Now, it was literally my lifeline. Breathing no longer felt like an automatic process and I made no assumptions about it.  As each breath went out, it was clear that the next one might not be coming in. Instead of just feeling an automatic, mechanical motion, it felt more and more like each breath coming into me was like I was receiving some kind of a consciously given gift. After some time, I started feeling a little better. My eyesight problem was still the same, but my system seemed to have stabilized a little. I got up and walked around the pool for a bit. I kept feeling better and better, but I still could barely see. I could make out the time on my watch and was surprised to see that the whole episode had happened in about 30 minutes. My wife, Sally, hadn't even come down to the pool yet. I decided to relax and see if I kept feeling better. Maybe my eyesight would clear up and it would all just pass. Sally came down about ten minutes later and she was pretty alarmed when she saw me. I felt a lot better, but she was very concerned. After a little while, she convinced me to go back up to our apartment with her and get into bed. I must have dozed off for a while because the next thing I knew, our family doctor walked into our bedroom. He was actually a member of our pool and when he got there for the day, some friends told him what was happening with me.  He called Sally and she asked him to come up and give me a quick exam. I was surprised to see him. I asked him if he was planning on playing any golf over the weekend. He didn't answer. He just took one look at me and said, "You're going to the hospital right now. " He took my pulse and said to Sally, "Go get an ambulance and tell them it's urgent." When I heard the word "ambulance" I said to Sally, "Make sure they're taking me to Lankenau and not Roxborough," Our condo is on the border between two hospitals. Lankenau is much more of a suburban hospital and Roxborough is located within the city limits. They always tell you to pick Lankenau if you get your choice. She came back in the room in a matter of moments. "OK," she said to me, "They're on their way over and they're taking you to Lankenau." "Is that for certain?" I asked. "Absolutely," she answered. "They understood completely. There's no question about it at all." At that point, a whole different momentum started and I realized that my responsibilities in the world had just come to an end. I was about to become a patient, and the only thing I had to do was cooperate with the people who were about to take care of me. Whatever they told me to do, I would do. It was all out of my hands now. Was I going to live? Or was I about to die? Who could say? I thought I had been feeling better, but from the look on my doctor's face, it was obvious that I was clearly in serious trouble. All that I had left now was my breath. It was the only thing that I could rely upon. "As long as I can feel my breath, I'll know I still have a body," I thought.  "If I'm still conscious, but I can't feel my breath anymore, then I'll know the change has happened and I'll just have to take it from there. But as long as I'm still breathing, I'm still here." The ambulance came within a few minutes and I was on my way. The next 36 hours were pretty much of a blur. Sally told me later that I wasn't given any drugs or sedatives at all, but I kept drifting in and out of consciousness. They took me to Lankenau, which is one of the top hospitals in our area. But after a CAT Scan, they immediately decided that my condition was critical and rushed me downtown to the Thomas Jefferson University Hospital of Neuroscience in the middle of the night. They determined that I was long past the point where they could have given me a "clot buster" to take care of the stroke. There was absolutely nothing they could do now but put me in intensive care and monitor me closely. While they hoped for the best, they gravely told Sally to prepare for the worst. "Stay with him. Hold his hand. Talk to him," they said. "We might lose him tonight. Just…just don't let him slip away…" The next thing I became aware of, I was lying in a hospital bed and Sally was holding my hand. When I opened my eyes and looked at her, she looked like she had really been through hell. She told me that I had been out of it for about 36 hours. "You've had a stroke," she said. "But you're going to be alright," she assured me calmly and kept holding my hand. I looked around. I was obviously in an intensive care room. I moved every part of my body to see if everything was working okay and it was. I actually felt fine. Two close friends of mine had been through small stroke episodes over the past year. They were mini-strokes. They had to stay in the hospital overnight and then they went home. They were told that it wasn't a big deal. I was pretty sure that's what had happened to me. I felt completely fine. My vision had cleared up, except I had lost a small part of my upper left peripheral vision. But other than that, I seemed fine. Doctors and nurses came and went over the next half hour. They seemed happy to see that I was awake and gave me some very quick exams. One of them told Sally that I seemed to be doing pretty well and that she could take a break. I don't know how long she had been there for, but she decided to go stretch her legs a little and get some coffee. The room that I was in had no windows, so it was impossible to tell what time of day it was. One of the nurses suggested that I relax and doze off for a little. Soon, I was lying in the room by myself. I closed my eyes to take it easy, but I had a funny experience. I found that I had some kind of inner vision. I could clearly see images inside of myself with my eyes closed. I saw an endless parade of black and white sketches. They were all of rabbis dressed in religious clothing, all from centuries long ago.  It was crystal clear. There must have been hundreds of them, one right after another. Black and white sketch after sketch. It went on for a really long time. Then suddenly, instead of sketches, a small grey statue appeared. It was the image of the Madonna holding the Holy Child and it was really exquisite. As I stared at it, it rotated, giving me several different views. Then, all of a sudden, a full color figure burst out of the Madonna part of the statue. And to my shock and surprise, it was Wonder Woman, the comic book character. She was in her red, blue and gold outfit and she was wearing her bright gold crown on her head. She was standing on the ledge of a mountain and I noticed that she was holding a large grey sack. She looked at me, pulled her gold crown down over her eyes like a visor and flew into my brain. I watched as she methodically pulled glob after glob of bloody tissue out of my brain and put it into her sack. This went on for quite a while. Finally, she flew back out of my brain, and landed on the ledge of the mountaintop. She lifted the visor of her crown off of her eyes and put it back on top of her head. She looked at me and even though she was a miniature version of herself, she seemed to be the embodiment of raw power. She gave me a strong salute, grabbed the bag full of bloody brain material and flew away. I must have drifted off to sleep after that, because the next thing I knew, I awoke to Sally holding my hand again. She said I'd been out for about an hour. *         *          * Sometime a bit later, a very  important looking doctor came walking into the room. He looked like he was in his middle sixties and was surrounded by about five medical students who were obviously studying under him. He introduced himself to me and told me that he was the actual head of the hospital. He gave me a quick examination and said a few things to his students. Then he sat down on the bed and looked me straight in the eyes. "David," he began. "It's really important that you understand something. What you had was not a mini-stroke or a TIA or anything like that. What you had was a major neurological episode that could have killed you in about three seconds, or maimed you permanently for the rest of your life. "You could have been blinded, paralyzed, lost your ability to speak, or all of it at the same time." I was completely taken by surprise. I had no idea that any of that was true. I had basically been in a very comfortable, dreamy state, with absolutely no sense of danger. "Now it looks like you're going to walk away from this whole thing basically unharmed. But you're going to have to take care of your Atrial Fibrillation. The stroke was a direct result of it," he concluded. "Really?" I asked. "Absolutely," he replied. "There's no question about it. The clot came straight from your heart." I had been diagnosed with atrial fibrillation, an irregular heartbeat, about six months earlier. I had been treated with medication, but apparently it didn't help. "Listen, the chances of walking away unscathed from a stroke of this magnitude are less than one in a thousand. You can't reach back into the deck and pull out another card like this again. You have to take care of the A-Fib when you get out of here. "Which brings me to another point," he continued. 'We're keeping you here for another ten days until we know your blood has been thinned down. We have to protect you from having another stroke. "The next forty-eight hours are critical though. Even though the worst is over, it's still possible that you can have some swelling of the brain or even some brain bleeding.  There can be damaged tissue involved. It's not uncommon with a stroke. So we're going to keep a really close watch on you. Suddenly, in my mind, I flashed on an image of Wonder Woman. As if sending me a message, she triumphantly held up the bag full of bloody material she had pulled out of my brain. "But as it is, you're looking pretty good," the doctor concluded and gave me a big smile. He looked over at a bulletin board on the wall. There was a sign that said," David, Your Assignment Today Is To EAT." "Oh yeah," he said and pointed to the sign. "Eat, David. Eat up! You haven't had anything in your system for a long time. You have to make up for it." He gave me another very kind smile and walked out of the room, the five medical students trailing behind him. They closed the door and I was left alone in the dimly lit environment. I took a few breaths and let this new information sink into me. I had survived a major neurological episode that could have killed me in a matter of seconds or seriously injured me on a permanent basis. But now, according to this major medical authority, all was well. It was all way too much for me to process at that point but for some reason, I suddenly flashed on Wonder Woman holding that bagful of bloody brain matter, and her look of absolute assurance as she put her crown back on her head and gave me a warm salute that seemed to convey a deeply positive essence, rooted in the very power behind infinity. And as I intuitively let go of it all, I could feel the breath continue coming into me and going out. Coming in and going out. It was the same as it ever was, only very different…

3. 

   25 Nov 2025

   EP 126 - The Friend at the End (Reprise) - Part IV

   This is the fourth episode in a series based on my upcoming book, The Friend at the End, which tells the story of the major stroke that I suffered in 2011, which very nearly killed me. In the last episode, I had continued my inner conversation with an unseen presence who had begun to introduce me to the idea that I might be dying. He suggested that I make the effort to get ready, but as I started to consider the idea, I had some trouble with it and felt like I was failing. Then the presence said to me, "Here, let me help you with this. Did 'ja learn anything? Now, the story continues… "Did I learn anything?" My God, what a simple little question! And asked in the most casual, way. Like from his tone, he could've just as well asked me if I had eaten a lot of pizza in my life, that's about how important it seemed. My initial reaction was no reaction at all, and I drew a complete blank. But then, something unexpected happened. Suddenly, a series of pictures began appearing in my mind's eye. The pictures were all of me, in different stages of my life. They went through linear time, beginning on the day I was born. There were so many of them, it almost seemed like there was one for every day of my life.  It was weird because they seemed to be moving very fast and very slow at the same time. Although I clearly recognized each one of them and remembered the experiences they showed, rather than stirring up memories, I was just extracting the essence of the feelings that I'd had during them - happy, sad, amazed, confused, and on and on. Finally, after every age of my life and every role that I had played had been presented, the last picture I saw was of me at this very second, sitting in my bathing suit at the swimming pool, looking at all these pictures. Then my mind went back to normal and the episode, or whatever it was, ended. I guess you could call it a life review of some kind. But before I could give it any thought, another image came into my mind's eye. This time, it wasn't a still picture, it was more like a movie, and I was in it and watching it at the same time. I was in a small boat on a river and the boat kept changing forms.  For a little while, it was a standard row boat and I was rowing it. Then it changed to a canoe and I was paddling it. Then it became a small motor boat and I was in the back, steering it by moving the motor. Then it went back to being a row boat again, and it just kept switching forms. All of a sudden, I was teleported up to the inside of an airplane that was flying high above the river. I kept switching viewpoints, from being on the boat to being on the plane. Then, in the next instant, I was rowing the boat down the river and flying in the plane above it, both at the same time. I was in two places at once, and fully conscious of each. The river had a lot of twists and turns to it, and from the viewpoint of being in the boat, you could only see what was in front of you. You couldn't see beyond the next bend. But the vantage point from the plane was totally different. I could see the whole river, all at once. I could look back to where it had begun, I could see all the way forward to the point where it finally merged into the ocean. Then, at one point, all of the pictures of my life that I had reviewed earlier, flashed in front of me once again. But this time, the scenes went by in what seemed like just a few seconds. Then it all vanished from my mind and I was back in normal life, sitting on my chair near the pool. The whole thing had taken me by surprise and it left me with a lot to absorb. Slowly, a series of realizations and understandings began to dawn on me. The first one was that even though I knew that I might be dying and I had just seen pictures from every stage of my life, I felt no real attachment to any of it. It may seem odd, but it's pretty simple. My father had died from a massive heart attack when I was sixteen, and his sudden death forced me to accept the harsh reality of the impermanence of all life on earth. I had no other choice. We all have to go one day, and I had been living with that understanding for almost fifty years, knowing that you just have to surrender to it, come what may. After reviewing all the pictures I had seen, although I felt a lot of happiness and appreciation for the days gone by, they clearly belonged to the past. Looking at them had been like revisiting fond memories of a place that didn't exist anymore, and from experience I knew that there is no real power in memories. The power is in the intelligence that is doing the remembering. So, from the perspective of looking back on my life, if my time had actually come, I had no regrets about it. There was nothing left undone and what will be, will be. I moved from thinking about the pictures to reflecting on the whole sequence with the boat on the river and the plane flying above it, and some profound realizations came to me. While riding in the boat, the turns in the river were like going through all the day-to-day experiences of my life. Like everything else that is subject to time, they all came and went, seeming so real while they lasted, only to eventually fade away, like a passing dream. And the fact that the boat kept changing forms represented the way that my body and mind had kept changing forms as I went through the natural growth cycle from baby to adult and beyond. The fact that I could never see beyond the next bend in the river was a reminder of the uncertainty we all face in our lives. No matter what we hope or expect, we can never really know what's coming around the next corner. But the view from the plane was the opposite. From there, I could see the whole river from beginning to end, and my intuition told me that the entirety of the river itself represented my conscious awareness, my essential self, as it passed through all the twists and turns of my life. This was critically important for me because I had always felt that there must be some higher purpose to life other than just running around trying to fulfill your dreams and desires. Otherwise, it just didn't make any sense, because no matter what you end up getting, you lose it all in the end anyway. Of course, we all have our own personal views, but for me, the idea really got driven home by my father's death. Not only was it a major shock, but there were also some very unusual and rather metaphysical things that happened to me during it that made me feel that there was more to life than meets the eye. By the age of twenty-two, I had begun a serious study of all the higher understandings about life that I could find, including practicing a powerful form of mediation that helped accelerate my inner growth. Nurturing and expanding my higher awareness had remained the primary focus of my entire adult life. Now, as I was pondering the idea of the flow of the whole river representing the evolution of my consciousness, I realized how much I had grown as a human being in my life. I had gone from having the dull consciousness of a shallow creature, almost robotically programmed into ignorance by an unenlightened society, into one who had explored the depths of his being, connected with the higher awareness within, and had led a profound life, filled with meaning, freedom, fulfillment and ever-expanding inner growth and happiness. Of course, there had been an endless amount of twist and turns along the way, but because I had been growing, the challenging ups and downs had only made me stronger. And now, like a farmer who had been nurturing his crops for a very long season, I was deeply gratified with the yield. "My God, this certainly wasn't a wasted trip," I thought. "What a life of learning!" And with that thought, the unseen power of my unseen friend's casual question really hit me. His simple, off-hand inquiry, "Did 'ja learn anything" had triggered all this, bringing the value of inner growth to the forefront and making it clear that while you may have to leave it all at the end, you do get to keep what you learn, because that evolution of your consciousness becomes an actual part of you. Now, the most important point became clear to me. I was deeply grateful for the life I had been given and had made the most of it. I had grown into a better human being and was satisfied with the person I had become. I felt complete. Then I thought of the image of the river again and pictured it merging into the ocean, and I recalled something I once learned in school. The ocean has a powerful, magnetic attraction that draws the river towards it, pulling it back into its source.  As it gets closer to the ocean, the current of the river gets stronger and it starts flowing faster and faster, almost like it can't wait for the merging to happen. There was something not only comforting, but also enticing about the idea, and I felt that if my personal river was about to merge into the vastness of its original source, I was ready for it. Bring it on. Then, with a sublimely steady sense of clarity in my heart and mind, I finally turned my attention to my unseen friend and said with calm assurance, "OK. If this really is the end of my life, then the answer is - yes, I am ready," "Good," it said. "Good." Once again, everything went quiet and still. I figured my life was over and we'd be leaving soon for whatever came next. "OK, now listen," it said, somewhat softly "This may not make sense to you now, but the truth is, no one knows whether you're going to live or die from what's happening to you.  It's just not known at this time. It can go either way. You could get better quickly or you could get taken out just as quickly. It's just not determined yet. But either way, you know how to handle this," it said calmly. "You know what to do now." My awareness shifted and once again I became fully conscious of my body as I was lying on the lounge chair. Although my vision was still seriously impaired, it had gotten slightly better and I could see a little bit. I could feel the breath coming in and going out of me, like it always does, but now, I started focusing on it much more deeply. Being in tune with the breath was always a major part of my practice and I had done it for decades, but it was different now. Now, it wasn't just about relaxation, clarity of mind, or elevation of consciousness. Now it was about survival. As I felt the rise and fall of each breath, the presence of my unseen friend remained clear. It felt more familiar to me now than ever, but I still couldn't put my finger on how or why. It just seemed to be a part of me, but not a part of me at the same time. I knew that my fate was undetermined, so, I just let go and surrendered to the power that was sustaining me through the lifeline of my breath. "Good," the presence said, encouragingly.  "By the bridge of your breath, just stay in the safety of the Divine Presence that's within you. No matter what happens now, whether you live or die, that's always where your real shelter is." In the next instant, the presence was gone and I knew it. I was on my own now, just taking each breath as it came to me, one at a time. Well, that's the end of this episode. As always, keep your eyes, mind and heart opened, and let's get together in the next one.

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